The Ghost Who Dream Hopped

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “I said shut and lock the door now!” Beverly’s hand began to tremble and with it the gun. “Too many people keep coming in!’

  Danielle hurriedly shut and locked the door. After the task was completed, she turned back around and faced Beverly yet continued to stand next to the door.

  “I want you to come over here and stand with them. Now!” Beverly shouted.

  Noticing Beverly’s tremor was getting worse, Danielle moved quickly to Brian’s side. He reached out and grabbed hold of her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  “You don’t want to do this, Beverly,” Brian urged.

  “Oh, shut up, Brian. I’m sick of men telling me what to do. Just be quiet. I turned on the radio because I can’t concentrate with the sound of her blubbering.” Just so they would know who she was talking about, Beverly pointed the gun from Danielle to the teenager. “And I certainly don’t need to listen to your questions.” She aimed the gun at Brian. “I just want everyone to keep your mouths shut, so I can figure this out!”

  Danielle realized she was no longer holding the envelope. She glanced to the door and spied the envelope and checks scattered along the floor. Beverly hadn’t even noticed. Danielle and Brian’s gazes locked for a moment. Danielle mouthed the words, Your gun?

  His response was a nod toward the workbench.

  Danielle glanced in that direction and noticed there wasn’t just a radio sitting on the workbench—there was also a second gun. Unfortunately, Beverly stood between it and them.

  Walt glanced at his watch. “What is taking you so long?” he muttered.

  As if in response, he heard a meow. Walt leaned out the open passenger window to the sidewalk. There, standing beside his car door, was a white fluffy cat.

  “Hello there,” Walt said.

  With another meow the cat jumped up on the hood of the car and looked in the windshield at Walt. Their eyes met.

  “No. I’m not dead…I just can, it’s a long story…nice to meet you, Snowball…is there any chance you can go see what’s taking my friend so long? She went in the garage of that house…what do you mean…she what—”

  Walt bolted from the car, leaving his crutches in the backseat. Walking more than hopping, and forgetting he was supposed to have a broken leg, he quickly made his way around the side of the house to the garage door, Snowball trailing behind him. He soon discovered that while the screen door was unlocked, the regular door was not. According to the cat, Beverly had taken several people prisoner in her garage and she had them at gunpoint. At least, it sounded like a gun by the way Snowball described it.

  Unfortunately, the blinds on the garage window were drawn so he couldn’t see in. That would have made it possible for him to do what was necessary to rescue Danielle and the others. He briefly considered a dramatic entrance, where he would throw his body through the glass plate and crash into the garage, yet on second thought he figured he might get tangled in the blinds and wouldn’t be able to help Danielle.

  He remembered that while he could no longer walk through doors, he was pretty sure he could spring a lock with some mental manipulation. Abandoning any idea of entering through the window, he focused his attention on the door. First, he opened the screen door, careful to be as quiet as possible. Once open, he stared at the locked doorknob, using his mental energy to move the lock as a key might.

  The lock opened. Walt smiled. He glanced down at Snowball. Stay out of the way. I don’t want you to get hurt. The cat ran off and jumped into a nearby tree.

  Taking a deep breath, Walt threw open the door and stepped inside the garage.

  A shot rang out—it hit him.

  “Walt!” Danielle shrieked. She tried to run to him, but Brian stopped her, jerking her back out of Beverly’s line of fire.

  The bullet went into Walt’s shoulder, but his only thought was for Danielle’s safety. He stood stoically ignoring the pain, his focus on Beverly, who continued to point the gun at him while cursing. In the next minute her hand jerked upwards and she fired another shot, this one going into the ceiling. Beverly seemed more surprised at the second shot than she had been when Walt had busted into the garage. She shot into the garage ceiling again—and again.

  Walt’s right hand flew to the bullet hole in his left shoulder, the blood now pouring down his arm. He was starting to feel dizzy.

  Brian and Beverly realized her gun was empty at the same time. Brian bolted to Beverly while she made a dash for his gun on the workbench.

  “Walt, stop her!” Danielle shouted.

  Beverly fell to the floor as if she had been tripped. She tried to get up, but invisible hands kept pushing her down until Brian reached her side and jerked her to her feet.

  Just as Beverly was pulled from the garage floor, Walt went down.

  Thirty-Nine

  Danielle had never seen Walt with his shirt off before. She couldn’t help but wonder…was this what his original body had looked like? Since she had known Walt, his pastimes had been reading and watching television. This was definitely not the soft body of a man who stayed indoors. She would never look at a three-piece suit again. He could actually give old Chris a run for his money in a swimsuit contest.

  “What are you looking at?” Walt asked. He reclined on the hospital bed in ER, his shirt off and left shoulder now stitched and bandaged after the doctor had removed the bullet. They were alone in the cubicle with the privacy curtain drawn.

  Danielle blushed at the question. “You.”

  Walt laughed. “I know you were looking at me. But you had an odd expression on your face. Is something wrong?”

  Danielle pulled her chair up closer to the edge of the bed. “Aside from you getting shot?”

  He reached out and took her hand in his and smiled. “I’m okay.”

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  He arched his brows. “How did I know what?”

  “That I was in trouble.”

  “What makes you think I knew?” He smiled.

  “Because you didn’t knock on the door, you unlocked it with your energy. I know it was locked; I’m the one who locked it. And you didn’t have your crutches with you, which means you didn’t want them to slow you down.”

  “Snowball told me.”

  “Snowball?” Danielle frowned.

  “It’s Beverly’s neighbor’s cat. Snowball doesn’t care for Beverly very much, by the way.”

  “Neither do I,” Danielle grumbled.

  “So what happened back there?” Walt asked. There had been no time for asking questions once Brian had apprehended Beverly. Walt had fainted, and the next thing he knew, the paramedics were asking him questions and loading him into an ambulance.

  Danielle shook her head. “I honestly don’t know much myself. I don’t even know who that girl was in Beverly’s garage. I just know the poor thing was terrified. I walked into the garage and, like you, found Beverly pointing a gun at me. I was luckier, she didn’t shoot me.”

  “Thank God.” Walt gently squeezed Danielle’s hand.

  “Something obviously was going on in there before I arrived, but after I got there, she told us all to be quiet so she could think. After you came in and were shot, everything went sort of crazy, and when the paramedics arrived and put you in the ambulance, I followed them back to the hospital.”

  “Thank God you’re okay.” Walt squeezed her hand again.

  “I do have one more question, Walt. Why didn’t you just call the chief and tell him what was going on instead of rushing in like that?” She now leaned over the bed, close to him.

  He released hold of her hand, reached up, and gently brushed her hair from her eyes. “I didn’t want to risk waiting. I knew I could get the gun away from her; I just didn’t count on her shooting me first.”

  “But you could have been killed, and then you’d be dead again.”

  He smiled softly. “You’re the reason I want to be here. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

  Joe stood with Brian in
the small office next to the interrogation room, looking through the two-way mirror. Beverly sat at the table with her attorney, waiting for the chief. The officers couldn’t hear what they were saying; they had the sound off.

  “I have crappy taste in women,” Brian grumbled, his eyes fixed on Beverly.

  “It’s not your fault. She had us all fooled,” Joe told him.

  Brian shook his head. “I knew something was not right when she brought up the hair in the food at Pier Café. The only ones that knew about that were Carla and Earl—and whoever made those phone calls. What kind of grown woman makes prank calls?”

  “You have to remember, Carla was fooling around with Steve,” Joe reminded him. “Not unusual for a scorned spouse to lash out.”

  “I suppose Carla should be grateful that’s all she did, considering what happened to Steve,” Brian said under his breath.

  Chief MacDonald entered the interrogation room carrying a manila envelope. He took a seat across the table from Beverly and her attorney and sat down.

  “I just spoke to the hospital. It looks like Walt Marlow is going to be alright,” the chief announced. “You’re lucky that bullet didn’t hit a few more inches to the right.”

  Beverly sat rigid in the chair, pushed back slightly from the table, her arms folded stubbornly across her chest. “He shouldn’t have just barged into my home.”

  Her attorney quickly quieted her and then looked at the chief. “My client has been under tremendous stress since the break-in and attack. When Mr. Marlow came charging into her home, she acted on impulse. She would never have shot him had he simply knocked on her door.”

  MacDonald arched his brows. “Are you forgetting your client was holding three people hostage when Mr. Marlow entered the garage?”

  “My client was distraught. She had just been threatened by Olivia Nash, whose boyfriend you have already arrested for attacking her and leaving her to die in a locked closet. I’m sure we can come to some reasonable plea arrangement so Mrs. Klein can go home tonight and put this unfortunate incident behind her.”

  “Just what do you have in mind?” the chief asked.

  “It’s obvious Mrs. Klein’s attack traumatized her more than anyone realized. I’m asking that you drop all charges in exchange for Mrs. Klein agreeing to mental health counseling for her recent breakdown. After all, she is the real victim here, and considering she has been a model citizen and has never had so much as a parking ticket, I believe this is the best for all.” After finishing his recommendation, the attorney sat back confidently in his seat and smiled at the chief.

  MacDonald let out a sigh and removed several large photographs from the envelope. He pushed the photos across the table to the attorney. “Mrs. Klein was not holding those people hostage in the garage because she was having some breakdown over being attacked a few days earlier. She wanted to destroy these.”

  With a frown the attorney picked up one photograph and then another, looking at them, yet uncertain as to what he was seeing. “I don’t understand?”

  “The young man in that picture, he’s the one who broke into the garage and attacked your client. Olivia Nash is the one who took these photos. She took them to your client in an attempt to blackmail her so charges would be dropped against her boyfriend.”

  The attorney tossed the photos on the table. “This just proves my point. The boyfriend attacks my client and the girl blackmails her. No wonder she had a breakdown.”

  “Aren’t you even curious as to why she was being blackmailed?” the chief asked.

  The attorney picked up one of the photos and looked at it again. He shrugged.

  MacDonald gave the attorney a brief synopsis of what had been dug up in Beverly’s backyard and why it was significant.

  “You aren’t seriously filing charges against my client over the murder of her husband, are you?” the attorney asked.

  “The murder weapon was found buried in her backyard.”

  “An empty can?” the attorney huffed. “And all you have is a picture!”

  “A picture your client was willing to hold three people hostage over and shoot another. I’d say we have a good case for murder.”

  “I never intended to kill him!” Beverly blurted. “I just wanted to teach Steve a lesson. How did I know he was going to fall into the ocean?”

  “Whoa…did Beverly just admit to killing Steve?” Joe asked.

  Brian nodded. “Sounds that way.” He and Joe continued to watch the interrogation through the two-way mirror.

  “If she had kept her mouth shut, I’d think her attorney may have successfully pushed the mental breakdown defense.”

  Brian frowned at Joe. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because after she shot Marlow, she emptied her gun in the ceiling. That’s not the move of someone intent on killing the rest of you.”

  Brian looked back out the window at Beverly. “I don’t think she meant to shoot up the ceiling.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t explain it. But she was more surprised at those shots than we were.”

  While Danielle and Walt waited for the hospital to complete the release papers, Danielle called the chief. He briefed her on what had happened with Beverly, and she promised to come in with Walt in the morning so they could both make their formal statements.

  After getting off the phone with the chief, Danielle called Lily to let her know what had been going on. She also called Chris. He had tried calling her earlier to tell her what had happened at the foundation offices with Kevin, but she hadn’t picked up, so he had left several messages.

  Not long after Walt and Danielle got home, they received company. Heather showed up first, bringing with her a special healing tea she had prepared for Walt. A few minutes later Chris arrived. Lily and Ian showed up last with enough Chinese food for all of them. The six friends sat in the living room of Marlow House, eating off paper plates and discussing the dramatic events of the day.

  “I spoke to the chief,” Danielle told them. “I guess Beverly practically confessed to spiking Steve’s tamales with crabmeat. He said her attorney about had an apoplectic fit when she opened her mouth.”

  “Beverly seems to be good at sending men into anaphylactic shock.” Heather snorted.

  “Anaphylactic isn’t the same thing as apoplectic—yet still a valid point,” Chris said as he walked over to Walt, carrying a glass of brandy he had just poured.

  “No, don’t give him that,” Heather told Chris. “He needs to put healing things in his body now!”

  Chris glanced at the plate of food sitting on Walt’s lap and arched his brows. “Like Chinese food takeout?”

  Heather rolled her eyes, repeated her instructions not to give Walt the brandy, and turned to Lily and began discussing an entirely different topic. Walt and Chris exchanged glances and then both looked down at the still-full cup of bitter tea Heather had given Walt. Walt cringed at the sight.

  Heather was still talking to Lily and not looking their way. Chris quickly snatched Walt’s cup and dumped the tea in a nearby potted plant and then refilled the cup with brandy. He handed it back to Walt, who grinned and lifted it to Chris in salute before taking a sip.

  “Other than poor Walt getting shot, it was a good day in that two mysteries were solved,” Ian pointed out.

  Heather looked at Ian. “What two mysteries?”

  “We know who attacked Beverly, and the police know Beverly killed her husband,” Ian explained.

  “It wasn’t really a mystery about Beverly killing Steve,” Heather said with a shrug. “Danielle had already told the chief.”

  “True, but now everyone else knows,” Lily pointed out.

  “Actually, four mysteries.” Walt spoke up. They all looked at him.

  “What else?” Heather asked.

  “Yeah, what other mysteries?” Lily parroted.

  “Danielle and I know why the museum was so interested in those boxes Beverly brought over,” Walt reminded them. “And
we now know why Katherine O’Malley married my brother-in-law.”

  “I’m still not clear on that,” Heather said.

  “As best as we can piece together, Roger’s Klan friends were harassing Katherine. She was Catholic, and back then they were targets along with blacks,” Danielle explained. “Roger made her believe he could protect her from them. What she didn’t know at the time, they were harassing her on behalf of Roger so she would marry him. After he had access to her money, he paid off his buddies for helping him. At least, that’s what we think happened.”

  “I still can’t believe Pastor Chad was involved in hiding all that information,” Lily said.

  “He’s only human,” Walt reminded her.

  “It still leaves one unresolved mystery,” Danielle said.

  “What’s that?” Lily asked.

  “I know why Katherine married Roger, but why did she kill him?” Danielle asked.

  “You’ll probably never unravel that puzzle,” Ian said.

  “Unless I talk to Angela,” Walt said.

  “Are you going to do it?” Danielle asked.

  Walt let out a sigh. “All that’s happened today got me to thinking. As you said, I could have been killed today. But I didn’t die, and I have a new life ahead of me. Before I move forward, perhaps I need to first resolve some issues from my first life—like Angela. She’s over there at that cemetery unable to move forward until I release her. I think it’s time I did that.”

  Forty

  The first place Walt and Danielle went on Tuesday morning was to the police station. After filling out the necessary papers and answering questions regarding the events of Monday, they headed to the cemetery.

  “I figure I’ll just stay here and wait for you. Will you be okay?” Danielle parked the car.